


It's the Permanent Scars, How Broken We Are, It's the Things That Hurt Us All (But Isn't It Beautiful, the Way We Fall Apart)

by Huntress8611



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DCU
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Cauterizing a wound, Gen, Good Slade Wilson, Hurt Oliver Queen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Lian Yu Island (Arrow TV 2012), Oliver Queen Needs a Hug, Oliver Queen Whump, Pain, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress8611/pseuds/Huntress8611
Summary: “Goddamnit, Oliver! How the hell do you get a wound like that from falling on a rock?” Slade asked, gesturing at what could best be described as a deep, short slice across Oliver’s torso.





	It's the Permanent Scars, How Broken We Are, It's the Things That Hurt Us All (But Isn't It Beautiful, the Way We Fall Apart)

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this work is from the song We Fall Apart by We As Human.
> 
> This work fills the square "Cauterizing a Wound" on my Bad Things Happen Bingo Card.

“Goddamnit, Oliver! How the hell do you get a wound like that from falling on a rock?” Slade asked, gesturing at what could best be described as a deep, short slice across Oliver’s torso.

“Dunno,” Oliver grunted, leaning heavily against Slade.

They could see the fuselage ahead of them and Slade practically carried Oliver the rest of the way, helping him sit down near their fire pit, suspecting he might have to make use of it.

He bent down and helped Oliver out of his shirt, looking at the wound as he did so.

“Slade,” Oliver managed, gritting his teeth and reaching out to grab Slade’s wrist.

“You gonna fight me, kid?” Slade asked.

Oliver shook his head and let go.

“Good,” he said, pushing down on Oliver’s shoulders, forcing him to lie down. He balled up Oliver’s shirt and moved the other man’s hands on top of it, pressing Oliver’s hands down against the wound, drawing a pained noise from Oliver. “Hold that pressure, got it?”

Oliver nodded, screwing his eyes shut.

Slade stood, going to grab a piece of metal from the fuselage and looked over at the remains of their fire, glad to see that there was still some usable wood. His instinct to put Oliver near the fire pit had been correct, and he was glad that he had followed it, as it would make this much easier.

He quickly got to work and managed to get the fire started in record time. He looked over at Oliver to make sure that he was still holding pressure before wrapping an old shirt around the end of the metal and sticking the other end in the fire. He waited for it to start to glow orange before he carefully setting it down, keeping the end in the flames, and turned to Oliver.

“Hey, kid,” he said, grabbing Oliver’s shoulder. “You alive?”

Oliver tried to say something, but it came out as a strangled whine.

“Yeah, I know. It sucks, kid, and it’s about to get worse.”

Oliver opened his eyes, following Slade’s gaze over to the piece of metal sticking out of the fire.

“Oh,  _ hell  _ no!” Oliver said, taking his hands off of his wound in an attempt to scramble backwards, away from the fire, managing to knock the shirt off his wound in the process.

Slade used the opportunity to drag him closer to the fire, seeing as he was already moving, before straddling his thighs and pinning his hands with his knees. Oliver struggled against him, trying and failing to escape from his hold.

“Kid, hey, stop it,” he said, reaching forwards and pinning his head down with a hand on his forehead. “You trust me?”

Oliver froze, every muscle tensed, and met Slade’s gaze. After a moment, he relaxed slightly, no longer resisting Slade’s hold. “Yeah,” he breathed.

“Good.” He reached over and grabbed a stick that he’d left out of the fire. “Bite down on this.”

Oliver opened his mouth, allowing Slade to place the stick between his teeth.

“Close your eyes. You don’t want to see this coming.”

Oliver obeyed, tightly squeezing his eyes shut. Slade took a deep breath before grabbing the metal with his free hand and quickly pressing it against the wound.

Oliver arched his back, the stick breaking in half between his teeth. Slade counted to five in his head before tossing the piece of metal into the fire.

He took his hand off of Oliver’s forehead and pulled the pieces of the stick out of his mouth before resting his elbows on the kid’s shoulders, cupping his face in his hands. Oliver was struggling underneath him and his breathing was ragged.

“Damnit, kid, stop moving! You pull on that wound too much and we’re going to have to do this all over again.”

Oliver stopped moving, obviously not wanting to repeat that.

“Open your eyes, kid,” Slade said, his voice softer than usual. “C’mon, open your eyes.”

Oliver opened his eyes and looked directly at Slade, who noticed the tears glistening in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

“Okay, now take a deep breath in and let it out.”

Oliver did his best, though it was fairly shaky.

“Good. Now do it again, in and out.”

Once Oliver’s breathing was completely steady, Slade stood up and reached a hand down to Oliver, helping him stand. He threw the kid’s arm over his shoulders, letting him lean on him as they walked into the crashed plane that they called home.

He helped Oliver sit down on his bedroll and went to find some cloth or something to wrap the newly-closed wound with. He found an old shirt and tore it into strips, going back over to Oliver and wrapping his torso.

Oliver winced when the cloth touched his wound, but stayed silent.

Slade finished quickly and forced Oliver to lie down. He sat next to him and ran his fingers through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

“Sleep well, kid.”


End file.
